PAUSE

Summer's last rays stroke fuliginous

roots beneath bleached

rock, waver over patches of amber

and violet, sole witnesses

to my silent contemplation, my secret

conversing with soaring

green bastions.

The wind halts, poised between earth

and sky, resolved to immure

luminous laminae in its discarnate

embrace, alas, a benison

contained in that distant kingdom

begetting light.

Mercy's cadences ring across an inky

vault ablaze with stars,

this balm intangible as faith enfolds

wandering souls of trees.

Peace abides in pristine silences clad

in the colours of Angels.

Here, my soul ceases to cower in a dark

corner of my frailness;

untrammelled, it traverses my form,

kindles each atom and breath,

every thought, dream and vision. Here, I

may pause for life,

before I yield to death.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: www.flickr.com

DENOUEMENT

Metamorphosis is Nature's course;

the insect does not

choose it. Death precedes life within

the chrysalis; a star wanes

at the centre of that gloriously

waxing cosmic butterfly.

Life's quaking core splits its mantle,

revealing layered ages

in the deep wells of unseen valleys,

moments, lodes, veins,

held fast in ancient rocks' vise,

these lessons unheeded, forgotten.

Time and Destiny spur us on, as we 

attempt to define eternity

in mortal terms, this supramundane

force narrowed to unnumbered 

seconds and minutes.

I would not seek a life force in death.

Swirling Autumn leaves

do not dance of their own accord.

The young corpse the

waves washed ashore did not conquer

the tide that lifted it.

The sunflower alone clings to its soul,

prolongs its last breath,

for it seeks to perish with the dying day.

I would know Life, not a semblance of it.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image source: nypost.com  

SPARK

Is this Heaven's allegory of freedom,

a periwinkle skein sailing

across the purpling sky? Does it send

forth a leaf from its own

annals, a dispatch on wing? No, it is

not the enkindling of

Hesperus' flame, nor twilight's torch, 

nor a sprite, nor a spirit. 

How gentle it glows, as a gleed in a 

dying fire, soft as that

timeless gaze from distant memories

that closed my life-weary eyes,

that ignites the emerald of the deeps

and the verdant shrine's lamps,

greens parched hills, fills the spaces 

of absent sunbeams.

The seer tells of a benignant spark that

inscribes ageless tales

upon man's brittleness, that they may 

be one with the dust, seep into

Nature's womb. Upon each bud and tree

shall they emerge into the light,

in the eyes of innocence, for to heal the

defiled air and bloodied ground,

that Peace may incarnate upon Earth.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: CALLA LILY
Source: www.pinterest.com
Artist: Georgia O'Keeffe

GATHERING DAY

 

The God we exalt this blessed Solstice,

'pon ev'ry hilltop, balefires burn;

at his highest heav'nly point shall he stand,

his golden face to the Goddess turn.

All earth his light purifies, evil fells,

rip'ning and vigour to herbage brings,

fields and herds blesses, our kinfolk prospers,

the blue yonder with his praises rings.

My sisters 'pon wooded hills assemble,

for to gather sage and mistletoe;

lavender, mugwort and vervain we seek

in deep vales clad in a faerie glow.

The first harvest we with joyful lays mark,

gilded blossom circlets 'pon our heads;

this Sabbat herbs most potent renders, as

the God his brightest rays 'pon them sheds.

Amulets of basil, rowan and rue,

such tokens we fashioned yestereve;

these now in pure white linen we enwrap,

for magickal shielding to receive.

Our charms 'pon the flaming gorse we empow'r,

by its light for fulsome harvests pray;

Lord and Lady in their union revel,

sacred Love brightens the dimming day.

Blazing wheels down twilit hillsides hurtle,

young and old 'round the bonfires dance;

festive melodies the cool night air fill,

praiseful songs all Creation entrance.

The Great Wheel onward turns, Summer shall wane, 

anon shall the Dark begin to grow;

the fair Goddess for cronehood must prepare,

for Winter's rest in the Great Below.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image source: www.paganspace.net

LITHA

The crossing of days we await by the
blazing gorse; June's gentle

breezes smooth the unquiet waves,

soothe the sighing green deeps,

ere they hasten to drive fleecy herds

from the hallowed eastern edge.

The perfume laden air thrums with

magic, for now the Good Folk process

down the meadows to their sidhes. 

Sole the indolent grass now slumbers

beneath the gaze of wakeful

hills and the sough of elms melding

with the whisper of the waters.

Here shall we bide, in Nature's embrace,

till dawn revives the earth, 

till the Great God comes forth with

golden beams, for to shower his bounty

upon the assemblage. 

Forgiveness shall bloom upon these 

spreads, renewal and redemption,

as the Great Fire approaches his zenith.

Earth shall move lifeward, 

as the Wheel of the Year onward rolls.

Twilight shall comfort day, garlands of

fireflies shall seek His truth

upon the faces of sunflowers, for these

at daybreak raise their hearts

to their God, and at eventide bow their

heads in gratitude for His Light,

for Life, for the magic of each day.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image source:juliedouglas.co.uk

Artist: Julie Douglas

THE SUMMER WIND'S TALE

With nimble gait o'er rills I pass,
my hymns the woodlands fill;
tho' May her gayest vestments wore,
June's hues are brighter still.

Her fields in gauzy gold she drapes,
her leas with blitheness ring;
anon shall our fair Queen espouse
her radiant Lord and King.

Gilt nets I cast into the mists,
for scented wisps to snare;
green veils with palest purple tints
to Summer's bride I bear.

The hills their heads in wonder raise,
as o'er the mead I sweep;
my gifts all wish to 'spy, ere I
into the great vale leap.

For there she bides, in bluebell glades,
her groom serene awaits;
his beauteous orb the dawn shall lead
thro' Heaven's golden gates.

'Mid floral plumes the bridesmaids all
their lady rapt attend;
her pulchritude the glade enchants,
e'en stars before her bend.

Her lissomness the curved light drapes,
her shoulders dewdrops dress;
blossom pearls she smiling weaves
into her silken tress.

The Sun upon her brow shall place
his finest gilded ray; 
their glad espousal Earth shall bless
this hallowed Solstice Day.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: WINDFLOWERS
Artist: John William Waterhouse
Source: theredlist.com

WORDS

The beginning and end, the alpha and omega,

you liberate me from the velvet vise

of my inner shadows and cast me into a fiery

abyss of despair in one fell swoop.

Upon the shores of silence you arrange

yourselves, paving the pathway to the voice of

my soul, to its epicentre nailed to

the crux of a distant diamond carousel.

And what a path! - haunted by gentle summer

breezes that bore the weight of

my loneliness; treasured memories and the

stealthy corrosion of living with bated breath;

visions of my heart rising as a child's

orison into spaces of innocence and

sinking as the blackest trespass into the Styx.

In vain I sought to bend you to my will, to my

turn of phrase and tenor, as the

melodist who summoned the rain with his notes. 

In vain I seek to win your secrets. 

I would know you, your immanent resonance,

your pace and seasons, your odours

and colours, your inscapes.

Would you speak of your journeys through time 

and utterances, of traversing the

spectrum of man's wonted disingenuousness?

I perceive your pulsating rage as you unravel

the sky and pulverise the ground,

leaving me to sense unknown directions,

dissipating as a dark white shadow on water.

Yes, you wound and heal me anew,

my thorn and salve, my nepenthe and my

mother's voice. I bow to your will.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: POLYHYMNIA, MUSE OF ELOQUENCE

Artist: Simon Vouet

Source: commons.wikimedia.prg

ANGEL II

An oneiric Light parted the darkness,
spoke so gentle, that it
soothed the very air it touched.
"What would you know, forlorn young
mystic, blind to the spate of
wonders that is your earthly life?

The light of stars long extinguished 
illumines your night, as you
stifle the flame of self-belief. Each birth
and death forges you anew,
as each moment, season and journey.
Are such not miracles?
This immense vehicle was fashioned 
for your enrichment, for learning
and reverence of Nature’s ways.

Pilgrims yearning for realms of eternal 
quiet must first love the dust
that cast their vessels, climb the
highest mountain, ere they would reach
beyond the bounds of flesh and bone. 
Seek the hidden and arduous,
ere you prepare for peaceful repose.

Naught remains beyond its appointed 
season, now the gold sun, 
anon, gold leaves, prelude to Earth's 
silver-clad slumber. Tend not
your sorrow, nor mourn your solitude,
for quiescence dwells therein
and purifies its spaces. Does new life
not form in the womb’s dark seclusion?
Your own heart first stirred in
its lonely confines, your spirit was hewn
in a void between worlds.

Seek my voice in the folds of the wind, for
it shall calm the clamour
in your soul. The waters carve my purport
in rocks and sand, breezes,
upon the clouds, the stars, upon the ether.
All Earth once spoke my tongue;
this, man has not lost, merely forsaken.
This, I would have you ensoul."

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: ANGEL

Source: galleryhip.com

Artist: Abbott Handerson Thayer

STRAWBERRY MOON

My leafless grey willow, stoic, 
unyielding, you stand
amid a carnival of smiling hues, 
beneath throngs of 
pearly clouds streaming across
flourishing Summer skies 
toward misty Autumn dreams.

Revel in the beams that bathe 
the lilies around you,
in the swirling rain that seems
to stay them, for it
once crowned distant mountains.
Shimmering beads greet
winds that bring ripening, zephyrs 
loath to leave their
embrace of cool light.

I sit at your feet, we speak in the
space between sleep
and waking, summer's bouquets
splashing over our 
dreams, befuddling us with their
scents and sounds of
vines brushing the windowpanes 
with tendrilled strokes,
counting each one, as a
child matching the sun's rays to 
the numbers of a sunflower.

Together, as always, we shall await
the strawberry moon 
this twilight. I, a blessed child, shall
glory in the living artwork
of your lifeless black branches 
streaking talon-like
across its textured pink canvas, this,
my beloved willow's swansong.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image source: www.travelandleisure.com

PATH

The map was traced upon our palms, 
it is said; the routes carved
into the bones in our feet; every pause
in this mortal, earthbound
journey etched into the ground and
rocks we would stop upon;
each fount and feast conjured from the
earth as we sow and reap. 

Yet, she felt the path upon her ancient
soul, its curves and inclines
reaching through her veins into her heart,
its camber sloping as Earth's
own course, its byways leading to leafed
cathedrals that speak wisdom,
exhorting one to keep in step with the
Seasons, to read their breath and colours.

She took her first steps upon the grass,
along a rill that echoed 
her laughter. An inner voice called her to 
communion with the elements, 
to prayer under the stars and song with 
the larks at daybreak. 
From blossoms and trees she learned her 
ways, from breezes and sunshine, 
from clouds and rain, 
living as her inmost script ordained.

Such reverence of Nature consternated
one and all. Her impious ways
they would not countenance, nor she their
censure. This defiant child 
they confined in blackness, bereft of her
true Mother, for to break her
will in lonely seclusion.

Light shall ever triumph, it is said. A pure
white flame burned in her being,
consuming the darkness with a fierceness
earthly eyes had never before beheld.
Brighter it burned, ever whiter,
lighter, rising upon waves of Love, melding
at last with the Light that loved her.

The wind now blows softer where she lived,
and the rain falls gentler, for her
footprints to preserve upon the Spirit's path.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: CALLER HERRIN

Source: www.liveinternet.ru

Artist: John Everett Millais